Drive In Movie on a Saturday Night
by amillionyears
Summary: "...I don't know much'a nothin', just that I can't take one more minute of you being all googly-faced over the new transfer student." Posted for Klaine AU Friday: vintage!Klaine. Set in the 1950s.


"Can I get a Coca-Cola?"

"Comin' right up."

Kurt drummed his fingers on the counter top, smiling proudly at the lively party going around him. It had taken a lot of time and effort, but agreeing to become head of the dance committee was worth it. With only a hundred dollars, some balloons, and a lot of persuasion, he had successfully managed to transform Carole's Luncheonette into the perfect place to hold McKinley's annual high school sock hop, complete with a soda bar and jukebox.

The only thing he was missing was a date.

"Five cents a pop, pay up."

With a sigh, Kurt dug around in his jacket pockets for a nickle. When he found it he exchanged it for his drink and took a long sip, glancing back out at the dance floor.

As if sensing his loneliness, Rachel rushed up to him. She brushed some of her stray bangs from her face and chattered, "Kurt, this is absolutely the best hippity hop McKinley has ever seen! I don't care what Quinn or any of those snobs say, this dance it a total bash!"

Kurt smiled. "Thanks, Rach."

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier to help set up," she apologized. "I couldn't find my white petticoat. But it looks like you did just fine setting up by yourself."

"No sweat," he said with a shrug. "I had some help from my dad."

She grinned and hopped up onto the stool beside him, clicking her saddle shoes together. "Well, I'm glad! I really wish you weren't here alone though. If you weren't so busy planning this, you could've gotten a date."

Kurt shook his head. "No," he said. "You know that's impossible for me, Rach." He gave her a pointed look and she sighed dramatically.

"I'm sure there's_ some_ guy out there like you," she whispered confidentially. She elbowed his ribcage playfully. "Hey, what about that new transfer student Blaine? He's a total cutie and he's really good at football."

"No," Kurt immediately dismissed. Blaine Anderson was too much of a dreamboat to return any of Kurt's affections - if he had any. Which he didn't. Not at all.

"Ugh, whatever. You're such a let-down sometimes," she muttered. As the opening tunes to a familiar, popular song started through the speakers, she perked up. "Oh, Hound Dog is my _favorite!" _she gushed, hopping down from her stool. She glanced at Kurt. "Want to dance with me?"

Kurt shook his head. "No thanks. Go find Finn somewhere; I'm sure he'll dance with you."

She gave him a sad look, but said, "Righto," before disappearing into the crowd, her pink poodle skirt bouncing behind her.

Kurt sighed, raising the straw of his Coke to his lips and taking a long sip. A few jocks passed by and David jeered, "You're cruisin' for a bruisin' sittin' all alone, Hummel!"

Kurt simply glared and chose to ignore it.

For most of the night, he passed time by ordering drinks (and a milkshake) and watching the crowd. Occasionally Rachel would break away from her date to have a little chat, but for the most part he sat there alone, discreetly searching the crowd for one Letterman jacket and hair smothered in gel (even more than the social norm). Just when he was about to give up and seek out Rachel for company again, however, he spotted the familiar face doing the twist on the dance floor.

Kurt swooned. Blaine Anderson was just so _dreamy._

"Why don't you just go talk to 'em, man?"

Kurt tore his eyes away from Blaine to glare. "Oh, what do you know, Noah? You're just a soda jerk."

"Probably not the best way to talk to a guy who serves you food," Puck replied. He shrugged. "And I don't know much'a nothin', just that I can't take one more minute of you being all googly-faced over the new transfer student."

Kurt huffed. "Please," he muttered, setting down his milkshake on the counter. "I am not."

"You're lying to yourself, Hummel."

"Whatever." Kurt slid off his stool, maintaining his glare. "I'm going to go over to the jukebox. I'll come back when you stop being so annoying."

Puck looked offended but Kurt paid him no more attention, walking over toward the bright orange jukebox. He took his last nickel from his pocket and scanned the selections. Just as he was about to pick, a voice sounded behind him.

"Hey. You're Kurt Hummel, right?"

He jumped, clutching his chest. "Oh, sorry," the voice said, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Slowly, Kurt turned around, only to find himself face to face with Blaine Anderson.

"Anyways," Blaine continued, "you are Kurt, right? I heard you were in charge of the committee this year - seriously, what an awesome dance!"

"Oh, uh, yeah. I mean yes, I am Kurt, and uh... thank you." He mentally berated himself for his awkwardness, resisting the urge to run out of the luncheonette and never look back. Or, more importantly, the urge to start staring because _wow, _Blaine was_ so_ much more handsome up close.

"No problem," Blaine said with a smile. He walked around Kurt and leaned against the jukebox. "So, Rachel is your friend?"

Kurt blinked. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

Blaine shrugged. "She showed up with Finn and pretty much talked about you endlessly," he said with a laugh. Kurt's face heated up.

"Oh my gosh," he mumbled, running a hand over his face. "What embarrassing stories did she tell? Did she tell you about that one time with the hula hoop, because in my defense-"

"No, no, nothing like that," the other boy assured. He fumbled a bit with the pockets of his jacket and Kurt's eyebrow shot up; it was almost as if Blaine Anderson was _nervous. _"So, uh, Kurt, I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"I wanted to know if you, uh, wanted to catch a flick at the drive-in this Saturday?"

Kurt's breath hitched. He wasn't expecting _that._

"I mean, you don't have to. We just met and I now it's, uh, not exactly conventional-"

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt laughed. "I mean, yeah. My schedule is free and I'd love to go, but... isn't the nearest drive-in in Westerville? That's like, a two hour drive!"

Blaine grinned. "Don't worry, I know a shortcut."

* * *

**A/N:** Inspired by the musical "Rock Around the Block" that my school put on this year, title taken from the song "Nifty Fifties" (a song from said musical). Reviews are appreciated!


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